


Lonesome Dove

by Veronica_Stone



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24196342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veronica_Stone/pseuds/Veronica_Stone
Summary: Francesco Pazzi wasn't looking for more than a one night stand.  Lorenzo has other ideas.
Relationships: Lorenzo "Il Magnifico" de' Medici/Francesco de' Pazzi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	Lonesome Dove

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd as per usual.

Francesco Pazzi was very much not a party person. Or a people person for that matter. 

And yet, tonight he found himself crammed into a townhouse full of drunken college students that he didn’t know, trying not to get completely sloshed with cheap beer.

He was going to kill Novella when he finally found her.

Damn girl was the only reason he had left his small studio apartment off campus tonight to take part in the drunken debauchery of university life. 

It had all started at their latest study session, when Novella asked:

“When was the last time you’ve gotten laid?”

Francesco had nearly swallowed the cap off the pen he was unconsciously chewing on. “Excuse me?”

Novella rolled her eyes. “You heard me. When was the last time you’ve had sex?”

Francesco went back to the text he was attempting to memorize. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything right now,” he grumbled.

Novella huffed and threw her pen at Francesco, hitting him square in the center of his forehead. If she dedicated as much time to her studies as she did to accurately throwing things at her best friend, she’d be the valedictorian. 

“You’re so grumpy,” she said.

Francesco shrugged. “I’m always grumpy.”

Novella leaned forward. “But you’re extra grumpy now and it’s gotten unbearable!” She reached over and put her hand square in the center of Francesco’s book, forcing his attention to her. “You need to get laid. You’re significantly more agreeable after you’ve had sex and the sooner it happens, the better for all of us.”

“You mean you?” 

Novella huffed. “Yes, I mean me.” 

Francesco stared at the redhead. She wasn’t wrong; things had been extra stressful lately with the semester ending and graduation coming up. Not to mention that he’d already taken a research job in Rome that he had yet to inform his uncle of and wasn’t that going to be a conversation for the ages? So, yeah, maybe he’d been extra tense lately and a bit surlier than usual, but who could blame him?  
Apparently Novella did. 

The staring match continued before Francesco (begrudgingly) admitted defeat. “Fine. Okay. I’ll play along. Did you have something specific in mind to help me get laid?”

Novella grinned wickedly and Francesco was already regretting giving in to her. This was going to be a disaster.

Apparently Novella’s plan to get him laid involved going to some classmate’s fraternity party. Francesco was ready to bolt when they came upon the house that had music blaring from the windows and a lawn that was littered with cups and couples. “Couldn’t we just go to a bar like normal people?” he asked. 

“No,” Novella said, shoving him towards the house. “Every time we go to a bar, you sulk in a dark corner nursing one drink and glare at anyone that tries to talk to you and then you end up going home alone, bitching about how overpriced booze is.” They walked up the steps. “There’s nowhere to hide here. So, in you go.” She gave him one final shove through the open doorway and Francesco was immediately assaulted by the scent of cheap beer and weed. 

Lovely. 

He’d stuck by Novella’s side for all of five minutes before she was whisked away into the house by some classmate or other and Francesco found himself alone in a sea of strangers. 

Better make an effort, he thought and proceeded to find a drink. He was going to need some serious liquid courage if he was going to survive tonight. It wasn’t hard to find the booze table, but he wasn’t thrilled to see that all that was left was incredibly cheap beer. Should’ve pre-gamed he thought before grabbing a can of whatever he could get and turning to scan the living area. 

Francesco noted only a few familiar faces, mostly classmates that he had minimal contact with, but for the most part he didn’t know anyone. He managed to slink off into a mostly empty corner to get a better look at the crowd. As he sipped his beer (ugh god it was so SO cheap), Francesco took stock of the room, trying to gauge if he could see himself hooking up with anyone here. There were a few scantily clad women who were clearly doing their best to get some sort of attention; Francesco was pretty sure he could get one of them to go home with him. However, it wasn’t female companionship that he was interested in tonight. Or much at all lately. Francesco was a bit more discreet in eyeing up the men in the room. Being bisexual wasn’t really an issue for him, but Francesco was always a bit more hesitant when it came to pursuing men. Hence why he had never really done it. The only men he’d been with had been blatant in their interest in him, thus removing any doubt of which way they swung. 

Not knowing any of the guys in the room therefore meant not knowing if they would be open to his flirtations and Francesco was not too proud to admit that he was terrified of humiliating himself. 

Just as Francesco was contemplating leaving the party, someone bumped into him.

“Oh sorry.”

Francesco turned with a snarky comment at the ready only to stop abruptly,

Lorenzo fucking de Medici.

Francesco had almost forgotten that he was at the same university. Almost.

While the two had been joined at the hip as children, Francesco had not spoken to Lorenzo in years (mostly due to the rivalry between their families and seriously did people even have those anymore?). Yet, Francesco would know him anywhere. What with his tousled curly hair, bright blue eyes, confident smile and constant air of confidence that he exuded; the only real changes in Lorenzo (that Francesco could see) were that he’d grown from a handsome boy to a gorgeous man. 

Wait, what?

Francesco must’ve been staring, because he was slightly startled when Lorenzo spoke. “Ah the elusive Francesco Pazzi finally graces us with his presence.” Lorenzo smiled wickedly and leaned in. “And what may I ask got you to come out from wherever you’ve been hiding and join us lowly peasants?”

Francesco rolled his eyes at Lorenzo’s dramatics. The man seemed to make a big deal out of everything- something he’d done as a child. “Threat of death. Novella tricked me into coming.”

Lorenzo grinned even more and let out a laugh. “I’ll have to send her a gift basket and ask her what her secret is.” He looked down to Francesco’s empty beer can. “Please tell me you haven’t stooped so low as to drink the piss water they’re serving?”

Francesco shrugged. “There were no other options.” It felt strange to fall into a teasing banter with Lorenzo. Then again, Lorenzo was notorious for being able to talk to anyone so Francesco was no exception. 

Lorenzo looked over his shoulder then back to Francesco. “Come with me,” he said taking the can of beer out of Francesco’s hand and placing it on a nearby table. He didn’t give Francesco a chance to respond before he took his wrist and began leading him through the crowd towards the stairs. 

“Where are we going?” Francesco asked bemusedly, not even attempting to pull out of Lorenzo’s grasp.

Lorenzo looked at him over his shoulder and grinned. “To get you a real drink. It’s your first time socializing with us all and I’ll be damned if it’s ruined by cheap alcohol.” With that, he led them up the stairs and down the hall, into an empty room. 

When the door closed behind them, Lorenzo dropped Francesco’s wrist and headed over to the other side of the room. While he was busy rifling through a drawer, Francesco took the opportunity to look around the space.

The bed was neatly made with a very soft looking comforter, but that was the neatest thing about the room. There were shelves that were close to overflowing with books of all kinds of genres (textbooks on accounting to anthologies of Homer and philosophy giants). A laundry basket sat in the corner, filled with various articles of clothing and the walls were covered with various prints of famous artwork and sketches.

“Who’s room is this?” Francesco asked, wondering if the owner would mind them using the space.

Lorenzo looked over his shoulder before turning back to rifling through the drawer. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked impishly.

Francesco rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked if it was.” But he took another moment to scan the room and only then noticed the few photographs littering the desk and bedside table. The smiling faces of the Medici family looked back at him and a small pang of longing made itself known in Francesco’s heart. It had been years since he’d actually seen those smiles in person and the memory of the last time he’d seen them was just…no.

Francesco wasn’t drunk enough to think about that.

Lorenzo came around the bed to stand in front of him. “If I’d known I was going to have company tonight, I would have tidied up,” he chuckled handing Francesco a plastic cup. “Here, have a seat.”

He plopped himself down against the headboard and patted the spot next him. Francesco eyeballed the space doubtfully which made Lorenzo let out a laugh. “C’mon. I don’t bite!”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Francesco responded. Lorenzo only laughed harder.

“Fine. I don’t bite hard and only when asked.”

“That’s just too much information,” Francesco said, while simultaneously sitting down on the bed. Lorenzo shrugged before reaching over and pouring two fingers worth of what appeared to be whiskey into Francesco’s cup. 

“I’m an open book,” Lorenzo replied. “What can I say?” He filled his own cup before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of whiskey. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his cup to Francesco’s before taking a swig. 

Francesco followed suit and took a moment to appreciate the smoothness of the liquor. It was clearly expensive; definitely not something a person would put out at a college party. 

“Better than that piss water you were attempting to choke down, right?” Lorenzo needled. 

Francesco hummed as he took another sip. “It’s not nice to keep such refinements to yourself you know. And I think this whiskey is far too nice to be hidden in your sock drawer.”

“Underwear drawer actually,” Lorenzo grinned. “It’s the only place I know Giuliano would never dare to look.” 

Francesco snorted at the thought. He’d completely forgotten that Giuliano also attended their university (he’d be what, a sophomore right now?). He wondered if the blond Medici also shared this house. 

He must have been thinking out loud because Lorenzo responded, “Yes. Mother insisted that he and I share this space so that I could make sure he was actually going to classes and not just partying.” He scoffed. “Like anybody could control Giuliano.”

Francesco shared a knowing glance with him. “Your mother is the only person alive who could control both of you. I’m surprised she let either of you move onto campus.”

Lorenzo put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me Francesco. Besides, I seem to recall you being an enabler of our bad behavior!”

“I’m not the one that burnt the hole in your father’s Persian rug!”

“No, but it was your idea to move the couch on top of it when it was still burning.”

“In my defense, I did not know that that couch had a wicker frame.”

Lorenzo snorted and spat out the sip of whiskey he’d just taken, coughing harshly while still laughing. Francesco, who was smart enough not to take a drink mid laughter, smacked him on the back a few times, helping him get his breath back. 

Once he’d gotten his bearings, Lorenzo spoke and poured himself another drink. “I still can’t believe my mother didn’t yell at you. Sometimes I think she loved you more than me and Giuliano.” 

Francesco refilled his own cup. “That’s because you two were horrible.” He took another swig of his drink. “Besides, I’d done her a favor. That couch was hideous.” 

That sparked another round of laughter from both men. “It really was,” Lorenzo said once he’d gotten his laughter under control. 

They sipped their drinks in silence for a few moments, smiling like fools at the childhood memory. It was only when Francesco drained his cup that he noticed Lorenzo looking at him. “What?”

Lorenzo grinned. “Nothing. I’m just-it’s nice to have you around again. It’s been too long Ceccio.” 

Francesco felt the blood rush to his cheeks at the old pet name. He hoped Lorenzo didn’t notice.

He did.

“Just like old times,” Lorenzo said, emptying the contents of the whiskey into both of their cups. 

Francesco hadn’t even noticed that they’d finished the bottle. He huffed. “Not really. We never killed an entire bottle of whiskey in one sitting together.”

Lorenzo smiled a bit sadly. “No. We never got the chance before now.” Lorenzo’s blue eyes (and have his eyes always been that blue?) bored into Francesco’s dark ones intensely and Francesco took a long drink to hide the blush that crept back up into his cheeks. It must’ve been the alcohol because there was no other reason for Lorenzo de Medici to be having some sort of effect on him. Whatever effect that was. Francesco started a little when he felt Lorenzo’s hand on his knee.

“I’ve missed you Francesco,” he said softly. “So much.”

And how strong was that whiskey? Because there was no universe in which Lorenzo (charming, bright, attractive, could get any man or woman he wanted Lorenzo) would be saying something like that in that tone to him, brooding, anti-social and funny looking Francesco. 

And yet, Lorenzo was taking the plastic cup from his slack hands and placing it on the bedside table and he was leaning in and all Francesco could get out in response was Lorenzo’s name and-

They were kissing.

They were actually kissing and it was everything Francesco never knew he needed. 

And what started as a soft press of lips turned into something much more heated as Francesco’s hands threaded through Lorenzo’s hair and Lorenzo’s hands wrapped around his lower back and neck, pressing their bodies together. 

They pulled apart, and Lorenzo asked “Is this okay?,” lips ghosting over Francesco’s.

It was so much more than okay Francesco thought and instead of responding with a verbal answer, he leaned back in for a much more passionate kiss. 

The angle, however, was not ideal and Francesco rectified that by swinging his leg over Lorenzo’s lap and straddling his hips, without breaking the kiss. 

He felt Lorenzo grin as his hands slipped from Francesco’s hips to his backside and squeezed. Francesco was not too proud to admit that he moaned at the contact and he felt Lorenzo grin even harder. Smug bastard. 

Francesco broke away from the kiss to catch his breath and Lorenzo moved his lips to his tan strong neck. “Is this how you work?” Francesco gasped slightly as Lorenzo nipped at a rather sensitive spot. “Luring unsuspecting men into your bedroom with the promise of good liquor and then getting them into bed?”

Lorenzo nipped at a spot on his clavicle (that was probably going to leave a mark). “Don’t be mean,” he said catching Francesco’s mouth in a hard kiss. “I wouldn’t share whiskey that good with just anyone.” He sucked Francesco’s lower lip between his teeth and nipped. “Besides,” he said, turning his attentions back to Francesco’s neck. “You’re as pleased about this as I am.” He pressed their hips together and Francesco couldn’t stifle the groan that erupted from his throat. He tugged on Lorenzo’s hair to pull his mouth away from his neck. 

“What can I say? That whiskey was very good.” Lorenzo laughed before lurching forward and sealing their lips together. Francesco felt his hands grip his upper and lower back before the world tilted and he was on his back on the bed with Lorenzo leaning over him. 

Lorenzo smirked as his hand slid down to Francesco’s belt. “I can give you something a little better.” 

Those were the last coherent words exchanged for the night as Lorenzo dedicated himself to diminishing Francesco’s vocabulary.

…

The alarm on his watch caused Francesco to shoot up in his bed.

No, wait. Not his bed. 

The pounding headache he was greeted with caused him to snap his eyes shut and turn over on his side. He was brought nose to nose with a sleeping Lorenzo.

Save for the impending hangover, last night was…pretty great in all honesty.

It’d been awhile since Francesco had slept with anyone and even longer since he’d slept with anyone that he actually had a connection with and-

No. 

No. No. No. He needed to stop that thought process right there. Drunkenly reminiscing about childhood shenanigans and then hooking up did in no way constitute a connection. Especially not with Lorenzo de Medici. 

Francesco checked the bed side clock as he slowly slipped out of the bed and began pulling his clothing on. The red numbers ‘ 5:04am’ blinked back at him as he searched blindly for his shirt and shoes. Still early enough on a Sunday that he probably wouldn’t risk running into anyone in the house. Given the wildness of last night’s party, he felt pretty confident that he could sneak out unseen. Finding his shirt and pulling it on, Francesco opted to put his shoes on downstairs and crept to the door. As he was about to leave, he couldn’t help but throw one last look at Lorenzo, who’d shifted onto his back and spread out on the mattress. Francesco smiled softly as he gazed on his sleeping…friend? Ex friend? Lover?

No. Nothing. One night stand maybe.

With that that, Francesco quietly shut the door behind him and hurried down the stairs, slipping his shoes on once he was outside the front door and walked back to his studio. 

He felt his phone buzz as he turned onto his street and pulled it out. 

There were 22 texts from Novella, 4 from his brother and one from an unknown number. He opened that one first.

‘Next Saturday, the Dove. 8pm. Sandro’s birthday party. Don’t make me sick Novella on you.’

Francesco frowned at the contactless message before another text came in from the same number.

‘Plan for a repeat of last night.’-LM 

A grin spread across Francesco’s face as he read that last message and before he could think about the implications of his next move, he was typing.

‘I’ll bring the whiskey.’ He laughed when Lorenzo responded with a kissy face emoji and an eggplant and pocketed his phone as he entered his apartment building. 

He might’ve skipped up the few stairs that led to his floor, but nobody needed to know that. 

He felt his phone buzz when he’d entered his studio with another text. It was from Novella.

‘You’re welcome.’


End file.
